The Pack's Human
by Scotty1609
Summary: "I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen." In which Derek drive Stiles away from the pack, Deucalion takes advantage of Stiles's isolated state, and something terrible does happen. T for violence/language
1. Forest

**A/N: YAAY! My first Teen Wolf FanFiction! Please read and enjoy! And also... I don't own Teen Wolf... duh.**

**THREE-SHOT**

**SUMMARY: **"I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen." In which Derek drive Stiles away from the pack, Deucalion takes advantage of Stiles's isolated state, and something terrible _does_ happen.

**PAIRINGS: **None (bro-fic, but if you crazy Sterek fangirls want, you can read it as that)

**CHARACTERS: **Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Issac L. (I can't spell his last name), Ms. McCall, and the pack

**WARNINGS:** Violence, gore, language

* * *

Stiles licked his lips and sighed as he sat on the front porch of the half-restored Hale house, watching the pack duke it out in another one of their rather violent training sessions. The sky was black, with only the dull glow of the crescent moon and the stars to filter in through the trees. A chilly wind was nipping at Stiles's face and ears, and he pulled the collar of his red hoodie around his neck. Derek had said that it would be optimum defense training for the younger wolves to fight at night, allowing them to work on their eyesight and rely on their hearing and sense of smell when even that failed them.

Stiles shivered and tugged his hoodie closer, wishing that he had taken Issac's offer of borrowing a wooly scarf while he watched the pack train. Derek was overlooking the entire odd function while Peter worked with the newer wolves, teaching them with little patience on how to properly defend themselves without wolfing-out entirely, in case any wolfsbane was ever added to a potentially dangerous situation.

Stiles had already done everything he could think of to entertain himself, including doing his homework due on monday, playing games and looking up meaningless facts on his phone until it died, doodling, twiddling his thumbs, and whistling- up until Derek yelled at him to stop it because, _really_, didn't Stiles understand the 'super-hearing' thing and how 'utterly annoying and distracting' his whistling was? Stiles had argued that a distraction was good for the training, but the death-glare he received from Derek was enough to shut him up.

With a heavy sigh, Stiles watched as the pack split off into pairs: Scott with Issac and Boyd, Cora and Peter, and Derek watching from afar, his almost ridiculous eyebrows furrowed as his agitation with his pack rose. "_No_, Scott, you cannot 'just' use your claws. No werewolf whatsoever." and "_Boyd_. Watch your stance. You're leaving yourself wide open for a sneak attack." and even "Dammit, Cora! We want to keep _some_ of the trees around the house standing."

Stiles drew in the dirt with a stick as he listened to Derek yap. He chuckled, _Yap_, and began to imagine Derek transforming into a cuddly yet vicious Pomeranian instead of a big, bad werewolf. _If Derek was a Pomerian, Scott would be... a Poodle! Haha! Yeah! And Cora would be like- uh... I dunno, a cat or something? Because she's so sassy and vicious and terrible? Ha! Yeah... And Peter would be... a squirrel! Wait, we're doing animals instead of dog breeds now? Okay, so Scott would be a gold fish. Hehe... And Issac would be... Oh! Oh! Issac would be a big, cuddly polar bear! Yeah! And Boyd would be... um... a rock?_

Stiles's mind wandered about, his ADHD not helping at all as he jumped from one topic to another. _What if _I_ was a werewolf?_ This was something he thought about rather often. _I could defend _them_ instead of it being the other way around... I'm kind of useless as is, but if I had super-hearing and super-strength and super-speed and all that super-hero-werewolf jazz, then I could actually _help_ instead of just Googling stuff and stalking police officers to crime scenes... _Stiles sighed, shaking his head. _But I don't _want_ to be a werewolf... And Derek would _never_ give me the bite, anyways, so it's kind of a lost cause... Lost cause... Cause... Plause... Taus... Maus... PAWS! Haha! Paws... Now _that's_ funny. Good one, Stiles! No! Wait- back on topic, Stilinski. Need to practice staying on-topic... Need more Adderall... Anyways, what can I do to protect them? What is they _do_ come across some kind of wolfsbaney incident and can't defend themselves?... AHA! So easy, Stiles, why didn't you think of it earlier?! HA!_

Stiles stood and made his way over to where Derek was standing, arms crossed and thick eyebrows furrowed. The Alpha snarled deep in his throat and pinched the bridge of his nose, calling out, "_Really_, Peter? You're supposed to be the mature one here!"

When he didn't look over at Stiles, the teenager cleared his throat. Derek glanced at him, taking note about how Stiles was bouncing up and down on his feet, twiddling his thumbs, and doing that _damn_ whistling thing again. When Derek looked at Stiles, brown eyes widened. "Oh! Hey, Derek! Didn't see you there-"

"_What_, Stiles?"

Stiles pondered how to voice his question to the obviously angry Alpha. _Angry Alpha... Angry Alpha alliteration! Woot! Wait- no- GAH! Stoppit, Stiles! Just ask the man! _"I was thinking that... y'know... _maybe_..." Stiles was rubbing the back of his neck as Derek glared at him. "I could... train... with... you guys?" The last few words came out as a squeak, and Derek rolled his eyes. Stiles could already feel the shouting coming on, as could the rest of the pack as they all turned and looked at Derek.

_Uh-oh... Angry Alpha soooooo not cool... _Stiles thought to himeslf as Derek's arms uncrossed, his eyes narrowing even further. _Can he even see me when he's glaring that hard?_

"_Why_ do you want to train with us?" Derek ground out, tapping his foot slowly as he waited for an answer.

Stiles gave a nervous chuckle, shifting in place and licking his lips again. "Well, y'know, in case you guys ever need, like, help or... something... Like, what if some hunter or Deucalion or some other creepy Alpha hits you guys with some kind of wolfsbane and you can't shift and you guys can't protect yourselves because you're hurt or unconscious or something and I'm the only one there that can help and everyone's phones are dead so we can't call the cops or Deaton or something and I have to defend you guys?" It came out all in one breath, leaving Derek stunned and with a headache at the fact that the hyperactive teenager could talk that fast.

Massaging the bridge of his nose again, Derek grunted, "_No._"

Stiles's jaw dropped. "What? Why not?!"

"Because."

"_Because_? Really?! You're gonna use a parent-line on me? 'Because' _why_?"

Derek dropped his arms to his side, suddenly looming menacingly over Stiles. "Because I'm the Alpha, and I _said_ so."

Stiles deadpanned. "Okay, one: that was _really_ a parent-line, and two: I'm not a werewolf, so the voodoo Alpha-magic thingie doesn't work on me."

Derek snarled, his jaw going dangerously tight. "_Exactly_. You're not a werewolf, which is _why_ you can't train with us."

"But I need to be able to defend you guys and myself and Lydia and everyone else who needs help when you guys aren't around to wolf-out and save the day! C'mon!"

By now, the Alpha listening to Stiles's almost-whining was fed up. It was a combination of his pack being so stupid and Stiles being so... Stiles. Derek growled deep in his throat, then suddenly lashed out and grabbed Stiles's arm in a death-grip, twisting the teenager around and shoving him into the ground, holding his arm behind his back. Stiles cried out in pain, and Scott shouted for Derek to let him go. Derek, of course, didn't listen to the Beta. He only pressed Stiles's arm further towards his back, making the teenager cry out in pain again.

"Yeah-" Stiles gasped out, flashing a grin that showed both pain and sarcasm. "Yeah- something like this... Ouch..."

His eyes flashing red, Derek roared, "Do you _still_ want to train with us?! This is _why_, Stiles..." He snarled, crouching low to speak directly into the gasping human's ear. "This is why you will _never_ train with us. Because you are _fragile_, you are _weak_. I could maim you in a million ways, _kill_ you in even more." The pack was watching, holding their breath, as Derek growled in Stiles's ear. "Because you are _not pack_."

Derek threw the teenager forward, letting Stiles drop face-first into the dirt and leaves. _Oh shit __dammit mother eff-er... Gooooooood that huuuuuurts... _Scott charged over to Stiles, gently placing a hand on his best friend's back as he bared his fangs at Derek. The Alpha simply rolled his eyes and turned, ordering the others to get back to fighting.

Tears of pain and embarrassment threatened to leak from Stiles's eyes as he pulled away from Scott. _Oh Gooooooood..._ he thought with a pained, sharp gasp. _Is it dislocated or something? Broken? Dammit, that's gonna leave a mark... OUCH! Dammit, Scott! Quit touching it!_

Stiles stood, not looking at the pack as he cradeled his arm and marched towards his Jeep, completely ignoring Scott's shouts for him to come back. He left the scene quickly, leaving the Hale house and pack in the dust.

* * *

Derek groaned internally as he felt Stiles walk up behind him. _What do you want now?_ When Stiles finally spoke, Derek was shocked at the teenager's audacity to ask for such a thing. _Doesn't he know how dangerous that is? Any one of us could maim him- _kill _him- even on accident. _Derek snarled as the boy continued on a meaningless tangent about why he needed to be trained. _Doesn't he understand that I'm just trying to _protect_ him? What the Hell does he need to be able to get it through that thick skull?! A freaking _example_?!_

Before he could even comprehend what his wolf side was doing, Derek had Stiles in a very painful position, his hand clenched tightly around the teenager's wrist and lifting it above his back. He heard the obnoxiously loud cry that left Stiles's lips, heard the teenager's hearbeat quicken, smelled the sweat and fear lifting from his body. _Good..._ Derek thought. _Now he can understand why-_

But Stiles cut his thoughts off.

"Yeah-" And then he was _smiling_. Derek growled to himself. _Why the Hell are you smiling? _How_ the Hell are you smiling? Can't you see what I'm trying to prove you? You're _human_, dammit! Idiot! _"Yeah- something like this... Ouch..."

Derek snarled deeply and spoke."Do you _still_ want to train with us?! This is _why_, Stiles... This is why you will _never_ train with us. Because you are _fragile_, you are _weak_. I could maim you in a million ways, _kill_ you in even more." Derek could feel the fear- and anger, from Scott's direction- rising off the pack. He also could feel how Stiles still didn't get it. The way the teenager twitched under his hold, still trying to get out- trying to _prove_ himself? Prove that he wasn't weak and fragile like how Derek _knew_ humans were?- and he let out a particularly nasty growl. _You need to understand! You aren't a werewolf! You don't heal easily! If you were _ever _in a situation like how you presented, you should _run_! The pack wouldn't be able to funtion without you... Human or not._ But Stiles couldn't read minds, so Derek knew he needed to push the teenager as far away from ever wanting to fight werewolves as possible.

"Because you are _not pack_."

Derek could hear the hitch in Stiles's breath, a pained hitch that showed just how vulnerable the human really was. He threw Stiles away from him, praying that he had once and for all deterred the rebellious and daredevilish nature from the teenager.

"Get back to training," he growled at the pack, watching closely as they all moved- albeit slowly- to do as he said. Scott was over next to Stiles, now, snarling and baring his fangs and gold eyes at Derek. The wolf side of the Alpha wanted to turn right back and roar, bare his own fangs and brightly colored eyes, but his human side quickly pushed that urge down. _He's just being a stupid teenager._

Derek heard Stiles get up and stumble to his Jeep. He heard the door slam with a particular anger, heard Scott shout for Stiles, heard the beat-up car rev away from the house.

There was a pause in which the pack stopped what they were doing yet again and watched Derek and Scott, waiting for a reaction from one of them. It was Scott who spoke first.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?" he roared at Derek, eyes still a bright gold as he showed his anger. "You could have seriously hurt him- _killed_ him-"

"And wasn't that my point?" Derek replied sharply and icily, snarling at the younger werewolf. Scott was still glaring at him, jaws clenched and lips opening in a silent snarl. "Stiles is weak- human. He can be hurt by werewolves- something he _needs_ to learn... One way or another."

Scott didn't speak for a moment, and Derek could tell that the youth was chewing over his Alpha's words. Finally, Scott sighed. "You're right, but you didn't need to almost _break_ his _arm_!"

Derek ignored the backhanded agreement and looked back over at his pack, all of whom quickly went back to fighting. Scott sighed, shaking his head, and went back to where Boyd and Issac were starting their fight back up.

Derek watched for a long time, up until the moon was beginning to lower towards the horizon. He corrected his pack on repeat offenses, waiting and watching for the proper time to switch off opponents and fixing up battle strategies in his mind to give to them. At the moment, the fight was pitted with teams of Issac, Scott, and Cora versus Peter and Boyd. All of the werewolves were punching and kicking, their powers and abilities in the back of their minds as they struggled to down the other team.

It was the sudden uneasiness in Derek's stomach that made him stop mid-sentence of correcting Boyd. The dark-skinned werewolf watched with a frown as Derek placed a hand on his head, where a persistant throb was beginning. _What is that?..._ Derek thought with a quiet grunt of pain as the throbbing turned to sharp pains. _Agh... The Hell? This feels like when Erica and Boyd were captured, only... worse..._ The sharp pain in his head gave way to a ringing in his hears that made his eyes squeeze shut.

A hand on his shoulder made Derek's eyes open wide. Peter was looking at his nephew with an expression that couldn't quite be considered concern or annoyance, but a mixture of both. "What is it?"

Derek shook his head, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as goosebumps ran up his arms and legs. "I'm... not sure..."

Suddenly, there was a terrible pain that shot through Derek's head, making him let out a grunt of pain. He heard his pack give out cries and gasps as they all felt the pain as well. After a few moments, the pain subsided, and a face was suddenly imprinted in Derek's brain.

His eyes widened, and he uncharacteristically rasped, "Stiles."

Derek quickly transformed into full-out werewolf, his claws and fangs present, eyes a vibrant red. Scott and Issac were quick to transform after, with the others following suit last. Derek dropped onto all fours and began charging away into the forest, his pack right behind him. The ringing in his ears was growing louder and louder as Derek made his way into the trees, dodging them left and right as Stiles's name grew in his ears, the hyperactive teenager's face growing clearer and clearer in his mind.

Derek came to a sudden halt, standing and changing back into his human form as he saw a lump of red hoodie and jeans lying in the dirt, a certain familiar Jeep tossed onto its side almost fifty feet away.

He smelled the blood before he saw it. The copper scent was so clear that Derek could detect it covering Stiles from head-to-toe. Along with the terrible smell was one even worse- that of another Alpha. Derek's eyes darkened as he focused on the scent, his irises glowing scarlet. "Deucalion..."

"STILES!"

Scott darted over to his friend, his whole body radiating fear. "Stiles, Stiles! Oh God, please don't be dead... please don't be dead... please don't be dead..." Derek heard a faint heartbeat as he ran over to the two teenagers, his eyes widening when he saw the damage done to the human.

Stiles's hoodie was torn to shreds, his jeans also showing numerous holes and slashes that were tainted with blood. He had multiple scratches, all in lines of five, over his chest and torso. The youth's eyes were closed with his unconscious state, his mouth and nose leaking blood. Dirt and grime covered Stile's wounds and the better portion of his ratched clothes. Blood pooled around his body, accompanied by a stark, overwhelming scent that made Derek's own blood boil with rage.

Issac joined Scott's side while the rest of the pack gathered around Stiles, their reactions ranging from bitter tears to carnal howls of ire. With a swift movement, Derek was kneeling at Stiles's side, quickly checking him over for any bite wounds. He almost sighed with relief when he found there were none. Scott looked up at Derek from across where Stiles lay, his eyes conveying his rage through their brilliant hue.

"Deucalion did this."

It was more of a statement than a question, but Derek nodded more the less. Scott let out a grievous and enraged roar. Derek ignored the angsting teenager as he studied the way Stiles was laying. The human's chest was rising and falling slowly, almost unnoticeably, his back bent slightly as he curled in on himself in a loose fetal position. His spine and neck didn't seem to be broken- _thank God_- but his right arm and both of his legs showed signs of the injury.

Without a second thought, Derek scooped up Stiles into his arms, feeling a sharp pain in his head once more as Stiles let out a distressed wail, his body spasming as he curled towards Derek's chest. The Alpha felt rage build in his stomach as he quickly carried Stiles over to the overturned Jeep. _How _dare_ Deucalion..._ he thought to himself with a snarl. _This was a direct attack on my pack-_

"_You are _not pack_."_

Derek grit his teeth as his words came back to him. _Dammit! I didn't mean it like that- I was just trying to get him to back off! _The Alpha barked an order for Peter and Boyd to flip the Jeep back over. _Deucalion _will_ pay for this... He hurts my pack... I hurt his..._

Derek placed Stiles in the passenger seat of the Jeep- _can't carry him all the way there... not enough time...- _and Scott quickly jumped in from the other side to hold his best friend still. Stiles's body was spasming as his wounds bled freely, his lips opening and closing as he whimpered and groaned. Mind still reeling, Derek jumped into the driver's seat of the car, taking note of how the keys were still in the ignition, and revved the vehicle up. "Meet us at the hospital," was all he said to his pack before he drove off.

* * *

**YAY! Do you like it? Please tell me what you think!**


	2. Hospital

**A/N: YAAY! My first Teen Wolf FanFiction! Please read and enjoy! And also... I don't own Teen Wolf... duh.**

**THREE-SHOT**

**SUMMARY: **"I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen." In which Derek drive Stiles away from the pack, Deucalion takes advantage of Stiles's isolated state, and something terrible _does_ happen.

**PAIRINGS: **None (bro-fic, but if you crazy Sterek fangirls want, you can read it as that)

**CHARACTERS: **Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Issac L. (I can't spell his last name), Ms. McCall, and the pack

**WARNINGS:** Violence, gore, language

* * *

Stiles drove away from the house as quickly as he could with one hand, the other lying on his lap. He had come to the conclusion that his arm wasn't broken or dislocated, but most likely a bit sprained and extensively bruised. Tears still lingered in his eyes as he thought about Derek's last words.

"_You are _not pack_."_

It rung in his ears, making him let out a gasp as he tried to keep from crying.

_C'mon, Stiles. You knew you weren't pack, anyways. You're not a werewolf or a druid or even a kanima- there's no _way_ you could _ever_ be pack... Not even if you _were_ a werewolf... They wouldn't ever want anything to do with you- annoying, hyperactive, _weak_ Stiles Stilinski... _Stiles rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, wincing as his shoulder protested. _Nevermind them, Stiles. Just think about happy thoughts! Puppies and sunshine and flowers and videogames- definitely videogames. Think about... about... World of Warcraft! Yeah! That's a happy thought! I'm almost a level 68- and then I'll be a level 69 and I'll be able to make perverted comments to the rest of my battle crew about it! Yay! Happy thoughts, Stiles! Just don't think about that stupid Alpha Derek Jerk-face and the rest of his Pack Stupid, and you'll be fine! Just fi-_

Suddenly, he felt something grab his hoodie. He gasped as he was torn from his Jeep- still moving- and flung to the ground, watching as the car flipped over a fallen tree and fell on its side. "Aw, c'mon!" he whined. "That's my-"

Stiles froze when he saw who was holding his hoodie. Fear took over his features, and it took everything he had to not scream.

"D-Deucalion..." he rasped, eyes wide. _Ooooooooh shit. It's Deucalion. Like, the Deucalion who wants the pack and anyone associated with them dead- and I'm associated with the pack. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, mother eff-ing shit and- Gooooooood can't I catch a freaking _break_ every once in a while?_

"Hello, Stiles..." the blind werewolf said with an eerie smile. "It's nice to see you again."

Stiles chuckled nervously. "Really? Ah-" he licked his lips "-because you can't, y'know, really see anything- ACK!"

Deucalion's hand quickly moved from Stiles's hoodie to his neck, his body twisting to where he slammed the teenager up against a tree behind him. The Alpha grinned, showing off fangs, and laughed darkly. "You're right, I suppose. Anyway, Stiles, do you know why I'm here?"

Choking and pulling at Deucalion's hands, Stiles shrugged. "Ah, because you love me and think I'm awesome and _reeeeeally_ don't wanna kill me?"

Deucalion's grin got even scarier- _is that even possible?_- as his grip around Stiles's throat tightened. "I'm here because I want to hurt your pack. I want to hurt them in the most painful way possible. Do you know what that is?"

Stiles gasped for air as he retorted sarcastically, "Well one, they're not my pack, and B, how is that?" _Oh, God. Please don't kill me, please don't kill me, please don't kill me, please don't kill me, puh-leeeeeease don't kill me!_

"I'm going to make them feel the anguish I felt when they killed one of my pack members... I'm going to kill you, Stiles Stilinski."

_Well, shit._

Deucalion whirled around and threw Stiles into a tree, making the teenager wail in pain. He slumped to the ground, gasping and clutching at his stomach. _Okay- soooo not cool. That really, _really_ hurt, you sonofabitch! And I'm sure that under that creepy, furry, Alpha-ness that you care that I'm an innocent human. Right? _He watched as Deucalion approached him, claws and fangs at the ready. _Okay... maybe not._

The Alpha grabbed Stiles's hoodie with one hand, using the other to slash at his chest. Stiles cried out, tears leaking from his eyes as he attempted to push the werewolf away. Deucalion grabbed Stiles's good arm and, with the simple closing of a fist, snapped his radius and ulna simultaneously. "AAACK!" Stiles screamed, throwing his head back against the tree. He felt Deucalion's foot slam into his shin, and his scream loudened as he heard a terrible _snap_ echo through the forest. Deucalion grinned and lifted his foot to do the same to Stiles's other leg. Through the pained fog of his mind, Stiles thought he heard someone whisper in his brain. He couldn't make out the voice exactly, with all of the signals of agony that his body was sending him, but he could hear that it was husky and low.

"_Stiles."_

"P-P-Please..." Stiles hissed, fighting back tears rather unsuccessfully as he felt the Alpha press against his leg. "P-P-Please don't..." he whispered, his voice growing dim from his screaming.

Deucalion sighed, nodding. "You're right. I shouldn't prolong your pain. I should just kill you- it's the humane thing to do, right?"

Stiles bit his lip. "T-Then again, g-g-go right a-ahead," he ground out through the pain. Deucalion smirked.

"I kind of like you, Stiles..." His face suddenly turned dark. "Too bad you're Hale Pack."

The werewolf's foot rammed into Stiles's other shin, making Stiles scream once more. _P-P-Please help..._ Stiles thought as he felt Deucalion's claws cut into his chest and legs. _P-Please... Scott, I-Issac... Come help me, p-p-please... I- I can't leave D-D-Dad alone... P-Please, h-help me..._

Despite the agonizing pain running through his entire body and the anguished screams that came from his raw throat, Stiles couldn't help but find humor in the situation. _If only... D-Derek let me t-t-train... We could h-have avoided t-t-this whole s-situation..._

Deucalion pulled Stiles away from the tree, throwing him to the ground a good ways away from his Jeep so that the teenager wouldn't be able to crawl to it. As he made his way over to Stiles, Deucalion grinned, smelling the fear radiating from the human's pores. Stiles shivered as Deucalion neared him, curling up to try and protect his broken, wounded body. "P-Please..." Stiles gasped in a minute voice, unable to talk at a normal level. _Oh, G-God... I'm b-b-bleeding out... I-I'm g-g-going to d-die here... D-Dad... S-S-Scott... _M-Mom..._ I'm s-so s-s-sorry..._

Deucalion crouched near Stiles, smirking darkly. "Oh, don't worry, Stiles... I'm finished with you. I want your pack to find you _freshly_ dead- hopefully even still alive. You'll die in your friends' arms, bleed out and turn white, soak them with your blood..."

Stiles hissed as Deucalion's claws sunk into his chest. The Alpha lowered himself near Stiles's face as he whispered, "I want them to see the light leave your eyes..."

Stiles gasped as he felt Deucalion pull away, heard the crunch of leaves and twigs under the werewolf's feet. He smelled copper, taking note of the blood that was filling his mouth and dripping from his nose. The teenager coughed, breathlessly sputtering as blood shot from his lips and pain racked his body from the single motion.

Black spots appeared before Stiles's eyes. He drifted off into interness, but not before he heard a familiar voice screaming, "STILES!"

…

"_Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead..."_

…

"_Deucalion..."_

…

"_Meet us at the hospital!"_

…

The drive to the hospital was agonizing. Stiles spasmed and cried out at every bump in the forest and every pothole on the street they ran over. Scott was holding his friend close to his chest, Stiles's blood leaking out over his clothes. Derek's grip on the steering wheel was so strong that he dented it. _Hang on, Stiles..._ he thought over and over as his hard eyes drifted towards the dying teenager. "How is he?"

Scott shook his head as he stumbled to try and put pressure on all of Stiles's wounds. "He- his pulse is weakening, and- and he's hardly crying out anymore," Scott said with tears in his eyes. "D-Derek, he's _dying_-"

"I know!" the Alpha snarled, stepping harder on the gas.

They came to a screeching halt in front of the hospital doors, where Derek ordered Scott to go in ahead of them. "NOW!" he roared when the younger werewolf hesitated. Scott scrambled into the hospital, trying to get a hold of himself as he did.

Derek exited the Jeep and jumped over the hood to the other side, quickly taking in the damage that had been done on the drive there. Stiles was hardly moving, besides the subconscious spasms that his body was making and the quiver of his lips as he struggled to breath. Even the movement of his chest rising and falling was getting weaker.

_Dammit, Stiles! I said 'hang on'! _Derek thought as he pulled the teenager into his arms. The Alpha was alarmed when Stiles made no noise of pain at the movement. "Dammit!" he whispered to himself as he charged towards the hospital doors, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

When he entered, Derek found that Ms. McCall had already readied a stretched for them. Several nurses were at the ready, one taking Stiles from Derek's arms and putting him on the stretcher. Another cut off the tattered remains of Stiles's hoodie and pants, and Derek's eyes widened when he saw Stiles's pale skin covered in liquid red.

The Alpha made to follow the stretcher as Stiles was wheeled into a back room, but Ms. McCall grabbed his biceps. "Derek, you can't go in there."

Derek's eyes flashed red, and he growled, "I _have_ to-"

"You can't, Derek," the nurse replied flatly, her eyes sad. "I'm sorry, but you have to wait. They're taking him into immediate surgery." Derek deflated, feeling suddenly worn. _Dammit, Stiles... This is my fault... I let one of my pack get hurt, and by _Deucalion_, no less... Dammit! Why the Hell did I have to run you off?_ "You can wait with Scott," the woman said softly, pulling Derek from his thoughts. The Alpha nodded and turned to see Scott already sitting on a chair, his face buried in his bloody hands. Derek could not only smell the hurt and the fear coming from Scott- he could _feel_ it in his bones.

He had read somewhere about this when he was younger. How an Alpha was connected with the rest of his or her pack. How he had known Stiles was in danger was proof of it, as was how he could physically feel Scott's anguish.

Derek sat next to Scott, rubbing his face with his hands. He flinched when he realized he had just wiped blood- _Stiles's_ blood- onto his face.

And then, Ms. McCall was standing in front of them, holding two towels and two sets of plain green nurse scrubs. "You can use the showers in the back," she said as she offered one of the piles of fabric to Derek. "Scott can show you where they are. Scott? Sweetheart?"

Scott looked up, his face ashen and eyes empty. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Derek looked down at his lap, his fingers clasping around the bridge of his nose. _Please say he's going to be okay,_ he cogitated, trying to project his thoughts onto Ms. McCall as if he could control her words.

Ms. McCall smiled sadly at her son, running her fingers through his hair. "They're going to do everything they can, sweetheart," she spoke with a rather dim amount of conviction.

Derek's grip tightened around his towels as he growled lowly, his eyes squeezing shut as his heart pounded dangerously into his throat. _That means 'no'._

Scott took his mother's statement positively, though, standing and gesturing for Derek to follow him. The werewolf reluctantly stood and followed Scott through the winding hallways of the hospital.

It was then that Derek remembered just _why_ he hated hospitals so much.

The smell of ammonia assaulted his advanced sense of smell first- _Damn. How much of that shit do they need to use?_- followed shortly by the definite smell of death. It permeated the air, leaving a draft of bitterness in it. The bright white lights in the ceiling made Derek's head spin, and he grunted as he heard the numerous cries of patients and squeaks of metal against metal from all around. _You'd better be okay, you hyperactive little brat,_ Derek thought, once again forcing his thoughts outwards, willing them towards the room Stiles had disappeared into, _because I'll never be able to forgive myself if you're not..._

Scott stopped abruptly, and Derek almost ran into him, if not for his super-quick werewolf reflexes. "Here," Scott said softly, brokenly. He pushed open the door to reveal a bathroom that particularly reeked of ammonia, making Derek's lip curl and nose scrunch up. "There's only one shower, so..."

Derek nodded, allowing Scott to go first. Too lost in his thoughts of self-hatred and rage at Deucalion, Derek didn't notice that Scott was finished until the younger werewolf nudged his shoulder. "Your turn."

As Derek stripped, he took note of the blood on his chest and shoulders that had managed to seep through his shirt. His clothes were utterly soaked in red, and the Alpha had to bite his tongue to keep the bile in his throat from making an appearance.

When he got in the shower, Derek turned the water on as hot as it could get, furiously rubbing the blood from his skin. All the while, his thoughts were focused on Stiles dying and just how many ways he could tear Deucalion apart. _I'm going to kill you, you sick bastard... He's a kid- a fucking _kid_- and you k- _almost_ killed him. I'm going to tear you apart slowly, limb by limb, until you beg for mercy. And then, I'm going to torture you even more by making you watch as I kill your entire damn pack! You are going to regret _ever_ messing with us- with _my _pack... I am going to make you pay _tenfold_ for what you did to him..._

Derek dried off and dressed in the scratchy, bleach-smelling scrubs before making his way out of the bathroom. He saw Scott leaning against the wall, wiping away the tears that ran down his face. "Hey."

Derek said nothing in reply, but followed Scott back to the waiting room. The rest of the pack had already congealed there, along with a few other faces that Derek recognized. Boyd was sitting with Issac on the floor, the latter leaning up against Cora's legs as she stroked his hair, her eyes staring into space. Peter was leaning against the wall, his face blank- _but really he's nervous_- playing with the zipper on his jacket with a faux air of boredom. Lydia and Allison had arrived as well and were huddling together, the prior sobbing. When Allison saw Scott, she ran over to him and began to cry silently into his shoulder.

And then there was the sheriff. Sheriff Stilinski was leaning against the wall, his face covered with tears as he gripped his forehead, trying to get ahold of himself. The anguish that came off of him made Derek stagger as he walked over to his pack. The man reeked of fear, his eyes full of terror as he blinked back tears behind his hand.

"How is he?" Peter asked his nephew nonchalantly, but anyone who knew the werewolf well enough could hear the slight jump in his voice that signaled his distress.

Derek shook his head. "I don't know... They took him into surgery immediately. It was..." -_terrible, gruesome, agonizing, abhorring_- "bad..."

The pack all looked away from their Alpha, going back to their numbness and sobbing and anger. Derek sat down next to Scott and Allison, leaning forward on his knees and staring at the white tiles. _I swear to God, Stiles, you'd better not die... I'll kill you if you do..._

…

"_Stiles? Stiles! Stay with us!"_

…

"_Go in ahead!"_

"_But-"_

"_NOW!"_

…

"_Stiles? It's me- Melissa. Stiles, you need to stay awake, alright? Stiles? Stiles!"_

…

"_We're losing him!"_

…

"_...Stiles?"_

* * *

**Okay, a lot shorter than the last chappie, but still good... i hope...**

**Tell me what you think, and I'll have the last chappie up ASAP!**


	3. Pack

**A/N: YAAY! My first Teen Wolf FanFiction! Please read and enjoy! And also... I don't own Teen Wolf... duh.**

**THREE-SHOT**

**SUMMARY: **"I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen." In which Derek drive Stiles away from the pack, Deucalion takes advantage of Stiles's isolated state, and something terrible _does_ happen.

**PAIRINGS: **None (bro-fic, but if you crazy Sterek fangirls want, you can read it as that)

**CHARACTERS: **Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Issac L. (I can't spell his last name), Ms. McCall, and the pack

**WARNINGS:** Violence, gore, language

* * *

The first thing he saw was nothing. There was a simple white glare of pain that slammed into his eyes, straight through his corneas and into his brain, pounding it over and over. A soft moan lifted from Stiles's lips as he blinked harshly, trying to dull the pain. _Gaaah... Ugh... Dammit, the Hell is th... Ouuuuuuuuch..._

And then, he was aware of even more pain. It was rushing through his body, going from a throbbing in his legs to a stabbing pain in his head. There was a dullness in his chest and stomach that felt like he was just one massive, blue bruise. His throat was scratchy and it was difficult for him to breathe, something blocking his pipes and making him feel like he was suffocating. _Oh Gooooooood... What happened? Someone get the plate of the truck that hit me?_

Something cold touched his forearm, making him shiver. There was a voice that carried through the room, and suddenly, the lights dimmed. Stiles let out a moan of relief and shifted in his spot on the hard and scratchy bed. _Thank you, new amazing friend or whoever you are._

The voice was growing clearer, and then, Stiles realized that there was more than one voice in the room. One was crackling and calm, while another was higher-pitched and slightly accented. The last was the one he had heard before the lights dimmed- low and husky with a tint of sarcasm.

Slowly, Stiles cracked his eyes open again. At first, he only saw blobs of color. He blinked, and the blobs turned to shapes. After blinking once more, Stiles was able to barely make out the shape of three men. _Wooooah... I can see now. Hehe... _One had darker skin and hair, his arm on the bed as his hand held Stiles's own. The other had light colored skin and hair that looked curly, though Stiles couldn't quite tell with the blurriness of the image. He turned his head to the side and saw the last man, the largest. Broad shoulders bled into arms that were crossed over a chest. Stiles blinked for the final time before he was able to make out who it was.

_Derek? _Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but found that the plastic tube in his throat was choking him. He coughed, gasping and putting a hand to his mouth to try and get out the obtruding object. Someone grabbed his wrist, and Stiles turned his head to see Scott. The werewolf's eyes were joyful, but held tears. "Hang on, Stiles, I already called my mom. She'll come get it out, alright?"

_Where am I? What happ- oh shit! Deucalion!_ Stiles's face turned panicked, and he grasped Scott's sleeve tightly, his mouth opening and closing, eyes growing wide, as he tried to speak. The heart monitor he was hooked up to started going crazy, but the werewolves in the room would have been able to tell how hysteric the human was.

_No, no, no, no, no! No! NO! Deucalion- he's here! He's here _now_ and you guys need to go kick his ass before he tries to kill anyone else and oh God what if Kali is here too and oh shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_! Please, please, _please_! Dammit! Why can't werewolves read minds, for God's sake?!_

"Stiles, calm down," Scott said nervously, obviously trying to calm himself down as he talked to Stiles. Stiles's eyes were shooting around the room frantically as he kicked his feet, pushing and grabbing whosever arms he could find. Issac and Derek quickly moved to hold Stiles's legs and arms down as Scott tried to talk to him. "Stiles, Stiles- STILES!" Scott's eyes flashed yellow, and Stiles paused in his fantic movements, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. Scott quickly put a hand on his friend's shoulder, nodding to him as he whispered, "It's alright. He's gone. You're safe."

_Gone? What do you _mean _'gone'?! Did you guys not get him? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!_

Sensing the human's again-rising panic, Derek pushed Scott aside, taking his place and staring menacingly into Stiles's eyes. "He's gone, Stiles. Don't worry about him. Just focus on getting better."

_Wait... Was that... kindness? From _Derek_? Okay, I must be hurt _reeeeeally _badly... But... Deucalion's gone, now, so... Just take a deep breath, Stilinski. Just... stay calm. We don't need you having a panic attack, alright? Just stay ca- hey, is that Issac? Issac! Buddy! I didn't see you there! Ooh! Hi, Momma McCall!_

Ms. McCall entered the room with a warm smile pointed towards her patient. "Stiles, good to see you awake again." The woman's eyes crinkled as she began checking the machines Stiles was hooked up to. "Alright. We can take the feeding tube out now that you're awake. Just stay still, alright?" she crooned gently as she tugged the tube from his throat. Stiles coughed and gasped as the slick tube was removed. He felt as if he was bleeding in his throat with every ragged cough that racked his body.

Scott and Derek helped Stiles sit up withought jostling his injuries too much. Issac disappeared for a moment before returning with a water bottle, the outside wet with condensation. Ms. McCall began adjusting Stiles's morphine intake and fiddling with the other machines he was hooked to.

Stiles blushed as Issac insisted that he be helped with the water bottle. At first, the human felt weak at the gesture- _well, I'm not a werewolf or a Kanima, that's for sure_- but when he realized how badly his hands were shaking, he allowed the curly-haired werewolf to assist him. Issac sat at the foot of the bed, a hand on Stiles's foot- _wait, my foot is numb... Ooooh-_kay_..._- as he smiled toothily at his friend. Scott sat back down in his seat, pulling it up closer to Stiles's side. Derek moved away from his seat to allow Ms. McCall easier access to the machines that were monitoring Stiles's health.

After a few minutes of Ms. McCall checking over Stiles, she nodded affirmatively. "Alright. Looks like you're gonna live."

Stiles laughed a bit, but quieted nervously when he saw the grim faces that the werewolves around him were wearing. "Ah..." he spoke, testing his scratchy voice, "How long've I been out?"

Scott looked to Derek, as if asking for permission to say. Derek's lips formed a firm line as he ignored Scott's glance, instead looking to Ms. McCall. Issac, seemingly confused on who he should be looking at, simply looked at Stiles with a pitying expression. "Almost two weeks," Ms. McCall finally said, patting Stiles's elbow gently.

_Wait, wait, wait- Two _weeks_?! What about Dad? School? The pack? The Alphas? What have I missed?!_

Derek rested a heavy hand on Stiles's shoulder, calming the teenager's racing heart with a gentle squeeze. "We'll fill you in on everything later. For now, you need to focus on getting better."

Stiles nodded emotionlessly, his eyes watering. The human quickly rubbed the water away before looking to Ms. McCall, who was writing on a clipboard attacked to Stiles's bed. "Where's my dad?" he croaked before coughing. Issac offered him more water.

"At work," the nurse replied.

Scott quickly intercepted the conversation. "He wanted to be here, he really did- he stayed here for almost three days before Mom had to kick him out. He went back to work, but we've been taking shifts watching you. He comes in every day after work and spends the night most days."

"So do we," Issac said with a grin. "We've stayed the night for the past couple of days- on and off for the past two whole weeks."

A shout came from the hallway, and Ms. McCall sighed. "Sorry, boys, but it sounds like I'm needed." She pointed to Stiles with a sharp finger and glare. "Stay. In. Bed. You hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am, Mama McCall," Stiles replied with his hands up in surrender. _I don't think I could stand up even if I wanted to... I haven't felt this bad for a while... _Ms. McCall exited, and Stiles shifted on the bed, groaning as he jostled his ribs. Derek grabbed the teenager's bicep, steadying him with a pointed frown.

"Don't move," he grumbled, eyes narrowed. Stiles rolled his eyes, patting the hard mat.

"Just trying to get comfty on the Stone Table, sorry."

Scott and Issac chuckled, and Derek rolled his eyes. "Issac, Scott, I need to talk to Stiles. In _private_, so get out and _don't_ listen in."

The Betas rolled their eyes and stood to leave. Issac lingered at the door, looking back with a teary smile. "I'm glad you're okay, Stiles," he said in a hushed voice. Stiles grinned, shooing the werewolf off before looking at Derek.

The Alpha sighed, sitting where Scott had once sat and twiddling his thumbs as he tried to begin. _Wow. Derek Hale nervous? Must be big._

"I... wanted to..." Derek sighed. "I wanted to apologize."

_Well, damn._

…

Derek watched with bated breath as Stiles woke up. He breathed a soundless sigh of relief when the hyperactive teen tried to talk. _At least he's feeling better._ Ms. McCall entered a short while later, and Derek manuvered out of the way, his eyes still locked on the youngest members of his pack. He could feel the relief coming off of Issac and Scott in waves. Both teenagers were grinning as they sat next to Stiles, talking to him and touching him, trying to make sure he was there and he was okay and _alive_.

_Young werewolves are very tactile,_ Derek reminded himself as he crossed his arms, standing at the foot of Stiles's bed. _Issac not so much, but that can be explained by his father. He _has_ been warming up to Scott, though. Stiles, too. I think those two are actually the only ones I've ever seen him hug... No, he's hugged Ms. McCall before. Anyways... tactile. _Derek smirked as he watched Issac help Stiles to drink from a water bottle. _Stiles is just like a pup. He thrives off of attention and physical affection. It's... cathartic for him._

Ms. McCall announced that Stiles would be okay, and the tension in the room dispersed quickly. Derek still stood at the foot of the bed, watching over his pack members. _Dammit, I know I need to say sorry, but... _He mentally sighed. _Just get it over with, Hale._

"Issac, Scott, I need to talk to Stiles. In _private_, so get out and _don't_ listen in." He snarled the last bit, making sure that the two wouldn't abuse their super-hearing to listen in to a moment of weakness for their Alpha. Then again, they had seen their Alpha's weakness for the past two weeks. "_Losing a member of your pack- even _almost_ losing a member of your pack... It's like losing a limb,"_ he had told them about three days into Stiles's short-term coma. _"You can feel your pack's pains and emotions, and when they're hurt- when they're _dying_- you can feel it, too."_

Issac and Scott left, and Derek felt something warm in his chest when Issac stayed and spoke to Stiles. _He's learning to trust again... No thanks to me._

Derek sat next to Stiles in the seat Scott had vacated, sighing as he groped for where to begin. He saw Stiles's big, doey eyes watching him with curiousity and amusement. "I... wanted to..." He sighed again._ Dammit, Hale._ "I wanted to apologize."

Derek would have been lying if he had said Stiles's reaction didn't hurt a bit. The human moved his head back a bit, eyes wide. After a pause, he snorted. "Ok-_aaay_-"

"I _need_ to apologize," Derek interrupted. _I swear to God, you'd better not make any jokes or I'll put you right back in your damn coma._

Stiles paused, then nodded, gesturing for Derek to continue.

The Alpha sat up straighter, looking down at his lap, abashed, as he began his practiced speech. "What I said to you- I was lying. I was trying to push you away because I was trying to protect you." He glanced up at Stiles, who was showing no emotions, although Derek could sense the warmth coming from the teenager. "You _are_ pack, Stiles. I was just... I was just trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. If the pack was responsible for you getting hurt, then _I_ would be responsible for you getting hurt... and I can't stand it when it's my fault that my pack is... suffering." Derek found his apology was getting easier as he went on. "When one pack member suffers, the whole pack suffers. And the Alpha suffers ten fold that."

"So you're saying you're that you're saying sorry because you didn't want yourself to get hurt?" Stiles asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"No! I- ugh..." Derek massaged his forehead tightly. "I'm trying to... trying to explain. I-"

And then, Stiles was laughing. Derek shot him a glare, anger building up in him. _Why the Hell are you laughing?! Asshole..._

Stiles rested a hand on Derek's arm, grinning through the pain of laughing. "Sorry, it's just... I get it. I didn't before- maybe I was caught in the moment and being stubborn- but I get it now. It's okay, Sour-Wolf. I accept your apology."

Derek nodded, choosing to ignore the nick-name for the time being. "Then you understand... you really are pack."

Stiles smiled. It wasn't the biggest smile Derek had ever seen on the teenager's face, but it was certainly the most emotional. Derek took note of the tears gathered in the corners of Stiles's eyes, the way his chapped lips quivered so slightly, the dimples in his cheeks large even with the smaller size of the curvature of his mouth. "Y-Yeah... Yeah, I do... And thanks."

Derek smirked back at the teenager.

He was about to call Scott and Issac back in when Stiles let out a loud hiss of pain. _What-_ "Stiles?"

The teenager shook his head as he gripped his ribs, waving Derek off. "I- I'm f-fine... I just... _hng_..."

_Dammit, Stiles. _Derek reached out and took Stiles's wrist, pulling his arm away from the boy's ribs. Stiles hissed again, eyes squeezing tightly as he whimpered. "What hurts?" Derek demanded, eyes slimming as he glared. _I swear to God, if Deucalion _ever_ hurts another pack member like he hurt you, I'm going to rip him to shreds- _Derek's fingertips brushed Stiles's ribs in an attempt to find the injury that was plaguing the teenager, and Stiles cried out in pain, a single tear escaping from his eye and running down his cheek- _scratch that, I'm going to rip him apart from doing this to Stiles._

"C-Chest," Stiles ground out in answer to Derek's question. Derek looked at the white robe the teenager was wearing and saw a small amount of pink fluid leaking through the fabric. Quickly, the Alpha pulled up Stiles's robe and saw how his bandages were covered in blood, pink liquid dripping down his bruised stomach from the blood. It smelt terrible, reeking of copper and infection and _death_.

"Dammit..." Derek hissed, pressing the emergency button on Stiles's beside. He turned back to the teenager, whose face was contorted in pain. "Stiles?"

Stiles whimpered again, another tear falling down his face. Derek gently pushed the teenager to lay down on the bed, fear and agitation rising in his veins. _I swear to God, Stiles, you'd better be okay-_

"M- Make it s-s-stop..." Stiles gasped, eyes focused hazily on Derek.

The Alpha froze. _No. He doesn't mean the bite. He just means the pain._ Cautiously, Derek placed his hand over Stiles's collarbone, the only part of his chest that wasn't covered in stained gauze. "Stay calm," he addressed Stiles firmly before closing his eyes. Stiles's body relaxed as Derek felt some of the human's pain being pulled into the Alpha's hand. Derek opened his eyes to see Stiles's veins, up his neck and down his side, were a dull brownish-black color. Up from Stiles's shoulder and along Derek's arm to his elbow, the brownish-black color continued and faded into his bicep.

After a few more moments, Derek heard commotion in the hallway. He pulled his hand away, tugging the sheet back up around Stiles just as Ms. McCall appeared, Scott and Issac- both looking particularly frantic- poking up from behind her shoulders.

"His bandages need to be changed," Derek said with a frown. "They're hurting him."

Ms. McCall nodded and went about changing Stiles's bandages, Scott and Issac hovering over their human friend. Derek pulled away and stood in the doorway as he watched attentively, growling under his breath every time Stiles made the tiniest of flinches. _Calm it, Hale. She's not hurting him- she's helping him._

Stiles looked past Scott and Issac and saw Derek looking at him. A weak, albeit genuine, smile covered his features, and the teenager gave a slight wave.

Derek smirked back.

Ms. McCall finished changing Stiles's bandages in only minutes, her years of nurse expertise coming in handy as she cut and slathered and tied. She patted Stiles's head when she was done, kissing his forehead and rubbing her nose against his, making the teenager laugh at the warm affection. Scott rolled his eyes, kissing his mother's cheek as she threw the old bandages away. Issac gave a shy hug to the woman, only jumping slightly when she kissed his temple. As the nurse made to leave the room, she stopped short next to Derek.

Without looking at him, she whispered, "Whoever the bastard who did this was- make him pay. Understood?"

Surprised, all Derek could do was nod. As Ms. McCall walked away, Derek shook his head. _Mama bear..._

"So..." came a nervous voice, bringing Derek back to Stiles. The teenager was rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, smirking at Derek- the Alpha was happy to see that Scott and Issac were both working on Stiles's arm and leg, their black veins connected to his- and spoke. "When do I start training?"

* * *

**YAY! Finite incantato!**

**Did you like it? Should I write more Teen Wolf FF?**

**PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


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